Herbs and Violins
by SLotH4
Summary: A member of the orchestra is kidnapped and turned into cooking ingredients. Back story for the first scene of the Red Dragon remake.


I wrote this a few years back for a writing class. It's not poorly written, per se, but I have become much better in recent years. I'll update the story at some point, though not anytime soon.

At the begining of Red Dragon, it is implied that Hannibal killed a member of the orchestra and then served him for dinner. This story is about the murder, though it is still incomplete. The torture scene needs to be expanded and one day I'll take care of it. Enjoy.

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**Herbs and Violins**

Another night at the theatre, it was taking its toll on Fredrick Meduci, a somewhat unskilled violinist. Half-way through the orchestral piece, Fred's screeching noises died out. _What's the point?_, he thought quietly to himself, _I'm not ready for this_. Pulling a red handkerchief from his pocket, Fred wiped the sweat that had collected on his balding forehead. He was unaware of a curious set of maroon-hued eyes that studied his every move. Twenty minutes later, the sound of music died out, only to be replaced by the deafening noise of a standing ovation.

The theatre emptied and the musicians went home with wrapped instruments in their hands. Fred climbed into his rusted 87' Daewoo a real shit-kicker of a car. After maybe half an hour he arrived at his apartment. The car shut down just before a cloth covered Fred's mouth, chloroform stealing his consciousness away. Maroon eyes, which appeared red in the dim lighting, stared at Fred's body as it slumped in the driver's seat.

Fred awoke in a daze; he tried to rub his eyes but quickly discovered they were strapped to the arms of the wooden chair he was sitting in.

"Try not to struggle so much, you may break something Mr. Meduci", said his captor in a cultured, yet metallic voice as if it hadn't been used in quite some time. "The Philharmonic Orchestra is a renowned group of musicians that are well known for their beautiful music. However, Mr. Meduci, you do not possess the skill to play that instrument of yours properly". As his vision cleared, Fred saw an elderly man standing in front of a stove stirring pot of boiling water. "How does someone of your...ineptitude, manage to gain acceptance into the Philharmonic Orchestra?"

"Where am I?", Fred asked in a frightened voice.

"You're in my kitchen of course," said the old man with chuckle, "It's very rude to answer a question with a question. But I can understand your confusion so I will ask again, how did you obtain your position within the orchestra?"

"I-I... My brother, he's the... the manager of the o-orchestra" Fred said with a stutter. This caused the old man to grin as he mixed different herbs and spices into the pot. Fred didn't recognize this man, it was time to find out who he was, "W-Who are you?"

"Dr. Hannibal Lecter, I'm sure your next question will involve the reason for which you are tied to a chair in my kitchen, yes?", Lecter said as he turned to face Fred, gazing at him with those unusual maroon eyes. Fred nodded, hoping this was a big joke or a dream, nothing in his life frightened him quite like this Hannibal fellow did. "Well..." Lecter started, "you, Mr. Meduci, are here to help me make dinner for several associates. They accompanied me to the theatre early, and aside from your horrendous screeching, it was a beautiful performance."

_Dinner? He doesn't mean..._ "Please, let me go", Fred said to a currently "deaf" Dr. Lecter. Fear mounted and tears began flowing, "please, just let me go." Lecter continued to ignore his pleas, grabbing a large kitchen knife from the wooden knife holder on the counter. Fred's quiet pleas turned to screams of desperation, "Please stop, I didn't do anything to you." Lecter stood in front of Fred holding that knife, ready to snuff out his life. "Please... I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING TO YOU!"

Dr. Lecter smiled, bearing his small white teeth, and with one quick motion, cut open Fred's throat. The initial cut caused a burst of pressurized blood to shoot out and stain the apron Dr. Lecter had put on to protect the evening suit he was wearing. Fred screamed in agony, or at least tried, blood caused him to gurgle and gag as it filled his lungs and stomach. Seconds later, Fred began to see stars from the lack of blood, and as he bled out Fred lost consciousness just before dying.

His body was ready to be harvested; his kidneys would become sweetbread, his liver an entree. Four days later, Fred was fed to a table of six people in the dining room of Hannibal Lecter's home. Dr. Lecter received many compliments on his cooking but refused to explain what the food was, saying "if I told you what it was, you wouldn't dare eat it."


End file.
